


the russian fort

by Fluoradine



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Roller Coaster, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, Major Character Injury, Miscommunication, Nightmares, Not Canon Compliant, Overprotective, Plot, Post-Battle, Trauma, also you can't forget they're in love i'll mention it at least five times per chapter, me? projecting onto my faves? it's more likely than you think, with sides of sappy shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-05 13:03:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10308554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluoradine/pseuds/Fluoradine
Summary: Abandoned, unfortunately - maybe a redo might happen sometime.Was 'and into my arms you'll fall' - After an injury on a mission that left Jesse McCree close to death, Zenyatta becomes more worried for him than he's ever been before. Despite reassurances from his friends, nightmares and fear continue to follow him, and he sees it up to himself to keep Jesse safe from anything like this happening again.Warning for description of injuries/gore in possibly all chapters, and description of a panic attack in chapter five.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> okay so first off a HUGE thanks to everyone who read and left comments on my last mcyatta fic - that was such a nice thing to wake up to after writing that oneshot pretty late...this fic is gonna have a bit more plot than the last one though. I guess you can consider the setting to be after the first one, but it doesn't really matter. I'm on break now so I should finish this pretty soon. Enjoy it, and thanks again for supporting me!

It was nearly night as the Orca craft took off from the small Russian city, the mission deemed a failure by all that would be returning to Gibraltar. There had been eight agents assigned to attack a fort being held by Omnics in the Russian arctic, each prepared to handle whatever would happen within the next three hours. But they obviously had calculated something wrong, or underestimated the power of the rogue Omnics, because now there were six agents on the craft, two of those who were blacked out with minor injuries, and another that was bleeding out, the medical doctor onboard attempting to hold him together until they could return to Gibraltar.  
  
Both Zenyatta and Jesse McCree were on the Orca, but from the looks of it, Jesse had a much smaller chance of returning alive than Zenyatta. He had been injured badly, with a woman who’s name Zenyatta could not remember in the moment holding him upright against the wall, unpacking a first aid kit with one hand and holding a cloth to the deep wound with the other. Jesse was pale - his eyes shut tight surely in fear, his short breaths along with the woman’s words being the only sounds in the craft - and yet Zenyatta was frozen. The sight of him hurt so badly was terrifying him, unable to help in any other way than soothe the pain with an orb of harmony than did not seem to be working. To see him like this, calm exterior gone and gasping for air was something he couldn’t believe was happening. It couldn’t compute.  
  
Did not compute.  
  
He hadn’t seen it happen, but he was seeing the aftermath firsthand of Jesse’s injury. The bullet had struck him directly in the chest, somehow avoiding the bulletproof armour and burying itself within his left side, leaving no exit mark and snapping two ribs. He held his serape over the wound, the red fabric turning a crimson shade with every second that passed by. He’d stumbled back to the Orca still trying to hold himself together, but had given up the moment he let Zenyatta see the wound. Whatever weapons those Omnics had been using made all of Overwatch’s gear look like toys. The large bullet was embedded into Jesse’s flesh, bruising the skin around it and practically spurting blood like a fountain. He’d given Jesse an orb of harmony in an attempt to help, but all it would do was soothe the pain for now. Any actual healing would take too long, and could practically do nothing to help something that severe. He would need much more time to perform transcendence, and even then, the craft would be too small.  
  
Zenyatta felt like he was watching it all unfold on a screen; the hushed voice of the doctor along with their pilot shouting out how long it would take to get back, making a frantic call to Dr. Ziegler to ask for her to be ready when they landed. The two agents passed out on the craft floor with black eyes, their guns at their sides and still in their snow-covered bloodstained clothes. And worst of all was Jesse’s pained grunts and groans, his chest rising and falling in syncopation, nearly slouched over on the ground with the others. Zenyatta was hovering, unable to lift a finger to help his love, an echo of his pain rushing through his systems. This can’t be right, was what he thought. Whenever one of the two was injured after a mission the other would always be there to help, stitch together a cut or soothe a broken bone. But Jesse’s injury threatened his life - and Zenyatta could do nothing but sit in shock.  
  
“It’ll be another hour before we land,” the pilot called out. “Erika, can you keep him stable?”  
  
“I’m doing my best, Lena.” the doctor said. Jesse was unable to form a single world, nearly completely unconscious from the pain. By now Zenyatta knew there had been more than metal in that bullet, and it would likely take Dr. Ziegler longer than she had to figure out how to take it out safely. It must’ve been the weapon that killed the two agents left behind, their bodies the same pale and breathless as Jesse was becoming. “I can’t stop the bleeding on my own, and putting him to sleep might make it worse.”  
  
“Can he lie down safely?”  
  
The doctor shook her head. “The bullet will shift if I do that. The entry would is already messy as is…”  
  
“Do you have anything to pressure it with?”  
  
The doctor took the serape from Jesse’s metal hand, pressing it harder onto his chest. “I’m doing all I can, but I’m…I’m not sure. There’s no guarantee.”  
  
As Jesse continued to gasp in pain, the aircraft soaring through the dark night, the only thought that came to Zenyatta was a sure and terrible feeling that he was going to lose him.

  


Gibraltar base’s medical bay was in the basement, and took up half the area that Overwatch had allotted them. The other half was filled with weapons and other various large items, like D.Va’s piloted MEKA, Reinhardt’s knight armour, and a few cars for missions closer to home. No one really knew why they kept the weaponry so close to the hospital - it was a strange kind of irony. But the medical base itself was white, floors tiled and always clean, and with barely any sounds except for pens clicking and nurses walking the halls. It was close to empty that day, with only two of Overwatch’s certified doctors on site instead of the usual six. And there would have been nothing to worry about if Jesse had not been in such critical condition a few nights ago.  
  
The doctor had kept him awake for the entire hour, no matter how agonizing it was. She would not let him sleep, out of fear that he would become unconscious and never wake up. Eventually Zenyatta had gotten himself together and helped her, treating the other two agents when they came to so she could pay attention to Jesse’s wound. It had nearly been as agonizing for him to hear the person he loved in such pain. But they’d made it back, and Zenyatta hadn’t seen him since then, Dr. Ziegler whisking him off into the basement as soon as they docked the Orca craft.  
  
Zenyatta had tried to trust in her. He knew she was practically a miracle worker, and had seen her patients come back from being near-dead to full force in battle. But it had bothered him, and kept him from resting properly for all three nights Jesse had been staying in the medical bay. He wanted to make sure he would be okay, and see that he had survived whatever he’d been attacked with. Despite them being together for months already, Zenyatta had never seen him as panicked and afraid as he’d been coming back from the mission, practically being kept together by nothing but the cloth held to his chest. Jesse was used to being beat badly in a fight, and Zenyatta had assumed no one would even come close to taking his life. But here he was now, waiting in the tiled white hall for news on how he was doing.  
  
He was not alone, as he hadn’t expected to be. The pilot of their mission, Lena Oxton, was there, along with one of the agents who had suffered minor injuries. Lena and the other agent were chatting politely about the early morning weather, and telling anecdotes about their own mission injuries to lighten the mood. Zenyatta wished he could join them - but he was far too on-edge to do so. All he wanted was to know if Jesse was breathing on his own, and how long he would be dealing with the aftermath for.  
  
“You know, I took a pretty bad blow when I was in Cape Town once,” Lena said. “Got shot down by a sniper right in the hip. I was bleeding for hours before they could fix it. Angie said I worried her sick for the week after. I reckon he’ll be fine. Jesse’s been through some tough stuff, and he’s gotten out all right before.”  
  
“They must’ve underestimated how fortified those bots would be,” the other agent nodded. “I’m glad most of us escaped before they could take any more down.”  
  
“I just hope Angie’s managed to patch him up alright.” Lena yawned, stretching her legs. It was barely even seven in the morning, yet all three of them had been notified the night before that they could come check up on Jesse if they wanted to. Dr. Ziegler and Zenyatta could not call themselves good friends, yet they knew each other from the support quarters, and Dr. Ziegler apparently knew how worried Zenyatta had been. He attached that to Genji telling her, seeing as the two had friendly conversations more often than he did. But, nevertheless, he was here - hopefully not waiting for much longer.  
  
Zenyatta hovered in silence for a few minutes longer, attempting to clear his mind. He wanted to believe everything would be alright - but despite any reassurance anyone could come up with, he couldn’t remember a time where he’d been more worried about someone else before. Had it been anyone else injured on their mission, Zenyatta might have been able to relax, but it had to be his boyfriend that had taken the shot. He laced and unlaced his fingers together, tapping them so that he would at least have something else to do than stress.  
  
Eventually, he saw Dr. Ziegler on her way down the hall, looking quite stressed herself over something. Lena waved her over, and the other agent stopped telling a story about a mission she’d been on in Bangkok. The doctor had her hands free, and looked as if she’d been working all night and morning judging by the rings under her eyes. “Is it you three that were on the Odistroma attack?” she asked. Zenyatta gave a nod of his head along with the other two. “Then you’ll be pleased to hear that McCree is alive, and in a stable condition.”  
  
Zenyatta felt like a weight had been lifted off of him. Jesse was living. He’d never been so pleased to hear the fact before. “Is he awake?” he asked Dr. Ziegler hesitantly.  
  
She shook her head. “No, though he did wake up yesterday for only a few minutes.”  
  
“Did he say anything?” Zenyatta asked again. Suddenly he was bursting to know everything that was happening, if Jesse was alright and when was the soonest he could see him.  
  
“Not much. He asked for more painkiller, and then went back to sleep,” Dr. Ziegler answered, rubbing her eyes with one hand. “I think he’ll need rest more than anything know.”  
  
“That shot looked pretty nasty,” Lena said. “D’you know what else was in it?”  
  
“It was some sort of venom, from what I could see,” she said. “I’ve already told my superiors and they should tell Winston about it. Something like this will probably attract Overwatch’s attention for a while.”  
  
“That means we’ll have to go back out there?” the other agent asked.  
  
“Not you three. I’ll make sure of that.” Dr. Ziegler said.  
  
“Would it be possible to see him soon?” Zenyatta asked.  
  
Dr. Ziegler didn’t respond immediately. She yawned again, and Zenyatta knew he shouldn’t be pressing for answers in the way that he was. She’d obviously been doing her best, and it had been a long night for her in the medical bay. But he still needed to make sure Jesse was alright himself. “Christ, Angie, you’ve been up for a long time, haven’t you?” Lena asked her.  
  
“Ah, it’s nothing to worry about. I should be alright soon.” Dr. Ziegler said.  
  
“C’mon, you need to sleep. I’m heading back to bed, you should follow.”  
  
“That’s kind of you. But I still have some work to attend to.” Dr. Ziegler insisted, but her third yawn nearly drowned her voice out.  
  
“Ms. Oxton seems to be right - you deserve rest,” Zenyatta said. “It’s quite alright if you take your own time.”  
  
“Ah - thank you all,” Dr. Ziegler said, along with a weak smile. “I know you want to visit him, but he’s still asleep,” she said to Zenyatta in particular. “I doubt you’d have a very interesting conversation. You can come back down tomorrow, if you’d like that.”  
  
“I think I will.” Zenyatta said. Dr. Ziegler nodded, and let Lena tug her off to the sleeping quarters. The other agent followed them, leaving Zenyatta alone in the medical bay. Jesse was alive, and he was stable - that soothed his worries enough to make his systems run a bit smoother. They’d been choppy since they’d gotten back from Russia, but he could feel them smoothing out along with his mind. He would still have to wait to see what damage the wound had done, and he still needed confirmation from Jesse himself.  
  
But Dr. Ziegler was tired, and so was Jesse, and, admittedly, Zenyatta was too. He would go back to the sleeping quarters and hopefully meditate for a while. Then he would return and check on his boyfriend’s current state. He hoped he would at least be able to talk to him for only a minute or two, just enough time for Zenyatta to tell him how worried he’d been, and how much he loved him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone who said something nice about this fic! i'm really excited to write more of it - i was planning for it to be only three chapters, but i don't know how long it can be now. hope you like the chapter!

Zenyatta stared at the dark scarred flesh of Jesse’s chest. He almost didn’t compute the visual sight again; but he reminded himself it was real - it may be terrible, but it was real and it meant Jesse was alive. He nearly ran a hand over it, wanting to see how deep the scar went. But he restrained himself, not wanting to cause Jesse any more pain than he’d already went through.  
  
“So? What d’you think of it?” Jesse asked him.  
  
“It’s…disgusting.” Zenyatta said, for lack of any better description. They were in the medical bay, Jesse sitting in a bed with the buttons broken on his shirt, the now-clean gash bared. It was obvious that the bullet had carried more than metal - the skin around it was shrivelled and bubbled in a shade of red, and the inner part was turning violent shades of rainbow. The entry wound was messy, and still looked fresh despite it nearly being a week since the mission. Luckier places on his chest had already begun to scar, and Zenyatta wondered what it looked like before Dr. Ziegler had extended her expertise.  
  
“Doc says to give it air for a while,” Jesse explained. “I think she might just be tired of changing the bandages, though.” He’d woken up earlier today with ‘an unexpected amount of energy’, as Dr. Ziegler had put it in her message. Of course, Zenyatta had left the training centre as fast as he could for the basement, having to refrain from throwing himself on top of Jesse when he’d seen he was okay, smiling, even. All that pain and he still managed to pass it off like it was nothing.  
  
“Your bones…aren’t they broken?” Zenyatta asked, still inspecting the area.  
  
Jesse shrugged, then cursed as a sharp pain went through his body. “Yeah. Angela told me she can get them fixed next week. I’m not supposed to lie down for a long time or cough too hard. Might start running again, though.”  
  
“Won’t it hurt to move?”  
  
Jesse shook his head. “Apparently not. Every time I end up here I learn something new.”  
  
“You are lucky you don’t sleep here more often.”  
  
“Well, I’ve got you,” Jesse said. “You’re a damn good help for patching up gunshots, darling. Just not this time, I guess.”  
  
For a few seconds, Zenyatta wondered if Jesse remembered that he’d frozen on the Orca, unable to lift a finger to help him. He came to the conclusion that he didn’t remember much from the mission after he was shot, seeing as he had been asking Zenyatta how it ended the moment he saw him. Though he didn’t know if he should tell him or not. He was afraid Jesse would think less of him for not rushing to help him as he was dying, for only offering what he gave to everyone else as if he was just another agent down, and not his love. He decided against confessing, for fear that he would cause more trouble than needed. Instead he tucked the thought away, and turned his attention back to the still-healing wound. “It isn’t possible for you to still be on an adrenaline rush, is it? You don’t look like you’re in pain.”  
  
“Oh, it hurts alright. I’m just trying to not make you freak out over it.”  
  
“Then you should know you’re too late. I was worrying myself short over you being by yourself,” Zenyatta said. “I wasn’t even sure you were alive before, it nearly kept me from functioning all this time. The last I’d seen of you was when you were nearly dead…”  
  
He was cut short by Jesse taking his hand, his skin still warm and smooth despite the ugliness of his injury. “Zen, you know I always survive these things. You know I’d never leave you hanging like that.”  
  
“It was only…” Zenyatta felt a sudden energy going through him that made his hand shake in Jesse’s grasp.  
  
“Hey, it’s okay. I’d do the same thing if you ever got hurt, darling,” he reassured him. “I’ve done it before, haven’t I?”  
  
Zenyatta nodded, faintly remembering a time in which he’d cut a few wires while on a mission. It was barely a scratch worth worrying about - but Jesse, being himself, had stayed as long as it took for Zenyatta to repair himself, making comments on how easy he made it look and if he was sure he wouldn’t need any help. It was a poor example compared to now, but he supposed it held up.  
  
“And look at me now, alive and well.” Jesse raised his shoulders as if to prove it, wincing slightly. “You get any sleep last night?”  
  
“Two and a half hours.”  
  
“Jesus, Zen, that’s not nearly enough.”  
  
“You still forget that I am not in need of as much sleep as you.” Zenyatta said, stretching the truth a little bit. He was tired without rest, and hadn’t been relaxing his systems properly since the night of the mission. But he could already see the concern growing on Jesse’s face, and didn’t want to give him, of all people, a reason to stress. “I can rest when I’m given time off, eventually.”  
  
“You can sleep here if you want, y’know.” Jesse offered, craning his head to check for Dr. Ziegler or any of the other medical staff that might be traipsing around. “A cot this size might be a tight fit for two, but we could make it work.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Zenyatta asked.  
  
“Sure. You might wanna avoid brushing this area, though.” Jesse said, motioning to the gash. That got a laugh out of Zenyatta, but instead of taking Jesse up on his offer, he wrapped his cold arms around the frame of Jesse’s shoulders, resting his head on Jesse’s neck. “Missed you,” Jesse said as he hugged him back. “I thought they left you back in that fight for a few minutes when I got up. You should’ve heard me asking for you to Angela.”  
  
“You have no idea how relieved I am to know you’re alive.” Zenyatta said softly. He pressed his faceplate to the back of Jesse’s neck, imitating a small kiss.  
  
“Me too.” Jesse said. “Don’t know what I would do if I didn’t get to see you again.”  
  
“I love you.” Zenyatta said, and he was glad he got to say it despite everything that had happened. 

  


The small one-bedroom was barely enough room to fit one, yet Genji had managed to sit on the carpet anyways. He held a rather terrifyingly large mug of tea in one hand, unmasked and taking small sips in-between sentences of his conversation with Zenyatta. The various lights and candles Zenyatta’s room was decorated with were all on, a few weak ones blinking softly to contrast the dark outside the window. It wasn’t awfully late, and Zenyatta really didn’t know why everyone in the support quarters of the building insisted upon going to bed early. But there the two were anyway, Genji not even halfway through the giant mug of hot tea he’d insisted on using, and Zenyatta floating in a meditative state as per usual.  
  
“So you think they’ll take you back to Odistroma?” Genji asked.  
  
“That’s what I’m afraid of. I thought they had already reported it as a failure, and there would be no need to go back.”  
  
“It makes a little more sense when you think about it,” Genji said. “Whatever fortification the Omnics had was obviously stronger than Overwatch’s assets. And they seem to be a threat to the country already. Getting rid of them is probably high on Overwatch’s list,” He took a small sip. ”I think that a failed mission might have actually made it worse.”  
  
“How so?”  
  
“You went with seven others, is that right?” Genji asked to clarify, and Zenyatta nodded. “And only five of them returned.”  
  
Zenyatta nodded again. He hadn’t known the two agents that had been lost in the fight - they had just been new faces hours before they were gone. It was a rare occasion to lose an agent on a mission, as Zenyatta knew. The recent recall hadn’t gotten all of Overwatch’s best from better times, but Zenyatta was already fighting alongside some of the most skilled and talented he’d ever seen. Genji had teased him for being easily impressed when the two had arrived together months before, after he’d congratulated Lena on completing what was apparently the simple task of dropping 40 feet blindly into gunfire. Nevertheless, the agents were well-trained and skilled at many forms of combat. It was very rare that Overwatch’s small roster got any smaller, and Zenyatta was lucky to never have seen it happen before last week. He felt a twinge of regret as Genji mentioned it, wishing he could have done something to save them. But it was the past - and there was no use dwelling on it any longer. What was done was done.  
  
“Did you get anywhere near the fight, master?” Genji asked, continuing to drink.  
  
“I did not. Our medical expert suggested I stay in place as a backup,” Zenyatta said. “I did see the aftermath of it all, however.”  
  
“But you didn’t see the Omnics, I presume.” Genji said. “That’s too bad - perhaps you could’ve gotten a look at what kind of assets they had.”  
  
“I’m a little lost, Genji. What does this have to do with returning to Odistroma?”  
  
“They managed to take two lives and injure a third,” Genji began to explain. “I haven’t seen that happen on any mission I’ve been on. If I were in charge, I would be making stronger and larger forces see what was going on there. Perhaps if you all returned alive, you would not be at risk of returning any time soon.”  
  
Zenyatta thought about what his student was saying. It did make sense - death and danger often attracted attention - but he didn’t want it to be true. Returning there would mean being put at risk again - himself along with others, possibly even Jesse once he made a full recovery. A horrible thought suddenly came to mind contemplating that possibility. Jesse was one of the newly recalled Overwatch’s best agents, and Zenyatta knew that he wouldn’t be left behind to take care of something that dangerous. If he was injured again, maybe even killed…  
  
“Did you get to see him today?” Genji asked, somehow being able to tell that Zenyatta’s mind had wandered back to worrying about Jesse.  
  
“I did. He was quite lively for someone who had returned from death’s door.” Zenyatta remarked.  
  
“And still you worry about him. McCree is an interesting man, master. When I knew him he was always covered in cuts and scrapes, yet I never once heard him complain. You should trust that he’ll recover fine.” Genji said, tapping his fingers on the rim of the mug.  
  
“It isn’t that, Genji. What you said made perfect sense. Now I’m afraid they’ll send him back there.” Zenyatta said.  
  
“Is this going to keep you from resting again?” Genji asked, concern in his tone.  
“I should hope not. I promised Jesse I would sleep a full seven hours tonight. It would be a shame to go back on my word.” Zenyatta said, rising from where he had lowered himself onto the ground. The silver orbs rotating around him slowed, and began to return to their place around his neck. Genji took a last gulp, and put the mug down on the ground. “When will you be on your next trip out?” Zenyatta asked him.  
  
“Oh, not until two weeks from now. I still have plenty of time to hear you worry about your boyfriend,” Genji smiled. “Do try and not stress tonight, though. If he’s well enough to show affection, then he’s well enough to have a quick recovery. Plus, I’ve heard Dr. Ziegler is pretty good at repairing injuries.”  
  
Zenyatta laughed a little, and helped Genji off of the ground. His student was right - Jesse was well enough to talk with him and move around a little, so he should be fine to begin a recovery. He would keep only good thoughts in his mind tonight, pushing the concerns about Odistroma into a far away part of his systems. “Will you be leaving, then?”  
  
“Yes. Goodnight, Zenyatta.” Genji said, and left the one-bedroom quietly, soon to return to his own quarters for the night. Zenyatta was alone again, with only the lights and candles to give him company. He thought it was best to do what he’d promised to do, and rest his systems for as long as humans were supposed to. And tomorrow, he would see Jesse again, and soon enough everything would be okay again.


	3. Chapter 3

It was that same night that the nightmares began.  
  
Not nearly an hour after Zenyatta had shut down his systems, he found himself plagued by visions - simulations playing out in his head that were a mix of familiar and new. In the simulation he was on the Orca, landed outside the dark Odistroma fort, alone and with the door open. He didn’t recall floating out into the night, but a few seconds later there he was, the ship nowhere in sight and no lights around. There wasn’t even moonlight to mark his way through the deep and freezing snow. And the night itself seemed to be moving, with northern lights twirling in dark colours above him, looking like storm clouds instead of an aurora.  
  
Without allowing him a minute to realize he was dreaming, the white snow began to float upwards, nearly surging towards Zenyatta as it became darker and formed the solid structure of a body. He was surprised to see Jesse standing in front of him suddenly, hat covering his eyes, looking like nothing but an empty silhouette. He made no motions, standing still as if he was dead. There was a blooming stain on his chest, darkening the fabric of his normal clothes, and dripping into the white snow beneath his feet. By then there were a million things telling Zenyatta something was wrong, but he didn’t realize it until he woke with a start, nearly short-circuiting himself in the panic.  
  
It took him longer than it should have to shut back down after that. This was not the first time Zenyatta had experienced a nightmare, and it obviously would not be the last. Yet he felt cold, as if he had been freezing in the snow in real time, and the deep feeling of discomfort hadn’t disappeared with the dream. It felt like more like a new perspective to last week’s mission than a meaningless vision to Zenyatta, after he’d begun to calm his fans from whirring on high speed; a result of being woken from tranquility so suddenly. He thought he was looking through the eyes of another agent, perhaps one that hadn’t made it back. The image of Jesse standing still as a corpse stuck with him as he shut back down, still feeling uneasy.  
  
Regardless of the nightmare, Zenyatta had continued on his with daily routine after he awoke later in the morning. He went to visit Jesse again, this time with Dr. Ziegler and Lena present in the room. The doctor, looking much livelier than last time, had explained as much as she could to the two, including an approximate recovery time and a full description of the injury. Jesse had interrupted multiple times, adding his two cents on some of the damage and pain he was supposed to be in (“Ah, she’s stretching that one - I barely feel a thing” was a common quote). Lena was happy to see that the injury hadn’t taken too much of a toll on Jesse, and had offered to help him get a head start on running. Zenyatta stayed for a while afterwards, but he couldn’t look at the wound itself for more than a few seconds without being thrown back to the nightmare, seeing the shadow dripping blood onto the snow. He was tempted to ask if anyone had been with him when he was shot, but decided against it. At least Jesse was happy to hear he’d gotten a night of rest.  
  
Zenyatta had a feeling that the simulation he’d seen was some sort of prelude to another, more straightforward and terrifying one. He was proven correct when he shut himself down again that night, finding himself back in the fort, this time in a raging gunfight. Almost instantly, he ducked his head into the snow to avoid flying bullets, trying to see who’s eyes he was looking out of and who was there with him. But he could see no one else near him, not hiding behind snowbanks or on the other side of the fort. The invisible fight seemed to carry on for hours, no side letting up, and the scene becoming darker and more distorted the longer Zenyatta stayed. This time, there were no northern lights above, and the snow was slowly growing darker to melt into the night sky. It made Zenyatta feel lost even though he wasn’t moving. He was practically standing still and yet he felt like he was in a spiral.  
  
Eventually, he heard a voice calling, shouting out commands for a battalion of what must be a hundred men. It was too far away to be a threat, but as it kept calling it got closer to him, his sensors picking up footsteps running straight for him. Before he knew it hands had gripped onto his arms, and were pulling him away from the gunfire and the shouting, the black snow crunching as whoever had taken him ran through the Russian wilderness. Zenyatta struggled to get away and defend himself, but the person had a grip on him that would not let up no matter how hard he tried. By the time they were away from the gunfire, he had accepted his fate, and he wondered what it would feel like to die in a dream.  
  
But instead of feeling a swift pain, Zenyatta heard a familiar voice. “Were you alright out there, Zen?” Jesse asked him, loosening the hold with his metal arm. He looked nothing like he had in the previous night’s simulation - he looked real, with no bloodstain on his chest. “You nearly died, that was a close one.”  
  
“I…I am alright, but where are we?” Zenyatta asked him still knowing that this scene wasn’t real, but hoping this version of Jesse might give him a better idea of what this was supposed to be telling him.  
  
Jesse looked confused. “You hit your head or something? We’re in Russia.”  
  
But it didn’t look anything like the fort now - the sky and snow were practically one, both a deep and discomforting black that surrounded both Zenyatta and Jesse, floating in empty space. Jesse was staring in confusion at Zenyatta, not seeming to notice the ghastly scene the nightmare had built around them. He was still catching his breath, short inhales and exhales making a strange fog in the air. “We aren’t,” Zenyatta said. “I’m only dreaming - surely you knew that?”  
  
“Dreaming?” Jesse asked, still confused. “Darling, are you sure you didn’t get hit by anything? We’ve been here for hours and they still haven’t called it off. You wandered off the ship and I went to come find you, thank god you’re alright, but what’re you saying?”  
  
“This is simulated, isn’t it?” Zenyatta asked, more to the dark surroundings than to Jesse. A noise like static was beginning to grow, irritating his sound receptors gradually. The longer Zenyatta stayed in shut-down, making all of this up as a twisted dream, the more unreal the scene became. A strong urge was telling him to leave - but how?  
  
“Well, simulated or not, we still gotta find a way back. How far out d’you think-” Jesse began to say, but as he was speaking, there was a sudden crack, and the static sound disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. Zenyatta gasped as he saw Jesse’s face pale, the bullet quickly buried within his chest. A ring of bright red began to stain his clothes, and then Zenyatta could no longer see. He awoke from the nightmare with his fans whirring, in a dark and quiet room in the Gibraltar basement alone.  
  
On his way down to the medical bay that morning, Zenyatta tried to erase the nightmare from his memory. But it was as if the scene had been programmed into him, along with every painful detail - the crack of the shot, the way Jesse’s eyes widened, even the terrible silence that fell after it had happened. He had trouble relaxing in Jesse’s presence, even though they were alone and Jesse was so nonchalant about his current condition. They had talked, stretched, and enjoyed each other’s company for what must’ve been hours, all throughout it Zenyatta knowing his dream had shown him how Jesse McCree had been shot that night. And it was while he was leaving the medical bay again that he realized he hadn’t seen exactly what had happened - just something meant to scare and scar him.  
  
The disturbing simulations did not let up the next night - or the next, or the next. Instead, they got worse. By the sixth nightmare in a row Zenyatta had memorized every detail of the fake Odistroma fort, and had seen Jesse - or the thing that he assumed to be Jesse - suffering and dying more times than he could handle. The only reason he continued trying to shut down and sleep was because he didn’t want to make Jesse worry about him at all. He had seen how relieved Jesse was when Zenyatta told him his sleep schedule, and had even managed to snag a few hours sleeping beside him in the small medical bed. Zenyatta knew Jesse wouldn’t be staying down there for much longer - Dr. Ziegler had recently finished with his ribs, and was working miracles with the rest of the gash. Soon enough he would be able to train again, and return to regular missions. But Zenyatta knew that returning to the Odistroma fort, no matter how important, would be a danger to Jesse’s life. And he couldn’t let him die, not after he’d almost just lost him before.  
  
“You’ve been seeing McCree die in dreams?” Genji asked him one afternoon, as the two Omnics were taking their rest from training. After a full week of nightmares Zenyatta had thought it best to give them some proper thought, and he trusted Genji to not tell Jesse anything about it. Jesse himself was practically back on his feet, and had been checked out by Dr. Ziegler to return to his own quarters that evening. Lena was going to help him with whatever he wanted, and then race him around the base later. From then, things should return to normal as soon as he got over the pain of the actual gash, and the both of them would have to face the problem of returning to regular missions. And Zenyatta didn’t want to be around him with this issue of the nightmares still clogging his systems. So, naturally, he’d brought it up to Genji.  
  
“I have. It is unsettling, to say the least.” Zenyatta said.  
  
“That sounds awful,” Genji said. “And for how long?”  
  
“Every time that I’ve shut down within the past few days, I’ve seen him in distress, with nothing I can do to stop it.” Zenyatta said. He and Genji had sat down on the rocks outside of the main base, watching the mid afternoon sun over the Gibraltar sea. Zenyatta hovered comfortably as Genji adjusted his position on the rock various times during the conversation. “The simulation itself is the same from each time. It resembles the Russian fort, but in a way that is titled and distorted, and cannot be real. Surely that makes at least a little sense?”  
  
Genji nodded his head. “It does paint a rather interesting picture. Is it a reoccurring nightmare?”  
  
“Not exactly. Few things here and there are the same, but it always seems to come up with a new way to scare me,” Zenyatta answered. “I am not one to deal calmly with seeing something like that.”  
  
“That sounds terrible. I wish I could help.” Genji said. Zenyatta knew that Genji had experience with nightmares, though they had long since stopped troubling him. He wasn’t asking him for a solution, instead simply a way to stop them from bothering him every waking moment. A few seagulls flew overhead, cawing as they ducked down to the ocean surface. Genji shifted his seat again. “Maybe once McCree recovers, you’ll be fine?”  
  
“I fear you’re wrong, Genji. That’s what I’m afraid of,” Zenyatta said. “Have you heard anyone talk about returning to fight at the Odistroma fort again lately?”  
  
Genji paused, then nodded. “I managed to catch Hanzo talking about it, actually. He mentioned an Omnic-guarded fort he’s assigned to travel to soon.”  
  
“Did he mention when?”  
  
Genji shook his head. “No. I’m sorry, master.”  
  
“It’s quite alright. I only worry that they’ll be sending Jesse there to his death,” Zenyatta said. “And without me to look out for him.”  
  
“McCree is quite the skilled fighter, you know,” Genji noted. “I’m sure he’ll be able to return alive.”  
  
“But he almost didn’t,” Zenyatta said, staring down at the ground instead of the sea or Genji. “I was helpless once when he was dying. I can’t imagine having to do it again.”  
  
“I’m beginning to think I shouldn’t have told you why his injury made the mission worse.” Genji said.  
  
“It’s not your fault,” Zenyatta said, which, as he thought about it, was a little lie. “You were right, after all.”  
  
“You really shouldn’t worry in the way that you do. Look at how quickly he got over the wound. I’m sure it was only one time.” Genji said.  
  
“I know he can fend for himself, Genji,” Zenyatta said, getting a little bit irritated with the way Genji was telling him to brush it off. “I know I shouldn’t be this fretful, either. But something’s overcome me, and these dreams are only making it worse. Watching him die is painful enough, even when it isn’t real. To be helpless if it happened in reality would be unbearable. I think that’s why I worry.”  
  
“But you helped him last time, didn’t you?” Genji asked, and Zenyatta realized that he had never told him about him freezing while faced with Jesse dying. It was a shameful memory, one he didn’t think he would ever get over. Remembering it just now made him feel remorseful. He didn’t feel the immediate need to correct Genji on his assumption.  
  
“I just want him to be safe,” Zenyatta sighed. “It is hard to trust someone else with his life. I would much rather watch over him myself.”  
  
“You could ask Winston to accompany him if he does go,” Genji suggested. “He’s pretty likely to make exceptions to the rules.”  
  
“Perhaps I will.” Zenyatta said. He looked at the sea again in front of him, still troubled by many thoughts. “If you don’t mind me asking, Genji…how did you manage when you had dreams like these?”  
  
Genji paused. He thought for a minute, staying perfectly still on the uncomfortable rock. “I tried not to think about them after I woke up. Nightmares were a thing that happened almost every night, so they never really surprised me. Do you remember any of this, master?” Zenyatta nodded, and Genji continued. “You advised me to disregard anything that happened in them. To brush them aside as they truly were, which is dreams. Things that aren’t real and can never be. I don’t mean to say that your dreams shouldn’t bother you, but you should at least try to not be concerned. If you do decide to go with McCree on his next mission, you can prove it to yourself that he’ll be alright.”  
  
Zenyatta thought on it for a few seconds in silence. “Thank you, Genji.”  
  
“It’s no trouble. Isn’t McCree moving to his quarters soon?”  
  
“I believe he is. I’ll go and see if I can find him and help.”  
  
Zenyatta hovered away from the rocks, making his way back over to the buildings of the base. He thought about Genji’s advice as he did, remembering that yes, he had given Genji his own advice on how to deal with nightmares while he was unsettled. It was a little ironic that now he required his student’s guidance on what to do, but he would try to follow it. Even though he had been told and seen first hand many times that Jesse had bounced back from many bad injuries before, he still couldn’t trust him to recover on his own. He supposed that he should’ve taken Jesse’s skill set and thirst for danger into mind when they became a couple.  
  
Zenyatta knew Jesse was skilled, of course. He could never doubt his boyfriend’s skills in combat for a second. They’d been on missions together many times, and he never failed to impress Zenyatta. It was almost like he was trying to show off sometimes, do the most dangerous things and still come back without a scratch. Zenyatta had taught himself not to worry over how Jesse would be on missions - he could handle himself perfectly. But this had thrown him off. It wasn’t something he could heal with a harmony orb alone, or patch up with a few hours and some stitches. What might have happened to Jesse if he was less lucky was something Zenyatta thought about a lot. He wondered if he had been showing off when he was injured, if he was performing Deadeye or just standing in wait. The nightmares had shown him the way his face paled when it happened. Every nightmare was like being on the Orca again, watching Jesse struggle in pain without being able to move an inch to help. And if he had to relive that with worse consequences, Zenyatta didn’t know how he would continue to function afterwards.  
  
It was in one of the recreation rooms that Zenyatta found Jesse, listening to Mei gush about her rock collection. He joined the two as Mei showed off the gems she’d found on her missions, trying his best to distract himself from thoughts of the nightmares. Jesse showed off the slowly-healing gash, which looked much better since Zenyatta had last seen it, calming his worry just a little bit. After a while, Jesse left to race Lena around the base, and Zenyatta meditated as agents passed in and out of the room. It was dark when Jesse returned, complaining that Lena was cheating and he’d only lost because he had a hole in his chest. “I think I might as well hit the hay, actually. I hate going to sleep before ten, but I don’t think I can keep my eyes open much longer,” Jesse said to Zenyatta. “You wanna join me?”  
  
“I’d quite like to.” Zenyatta said, the two beginning to make their way to Jesse’s room on the second floor. Both fell asleep on his stiff bed within minutes, after Zenyatta had cleaned the wound for the night and given it a fresh bandage, with barely any time to talk at all. Zenyatta stopped himself from wondering why Jesse was so fatigued. He was likely tired out by Lena chasing him around the base, anyways. Maybe it would be a good thing to sleep beside him tonight, Zenyatta thought. That way, he would be sure Jesse wouldn’t be harmed, and could wake from a nightmare to see he was safe and sound.

  


In the simulation that night, Jesse was bleeding. He had a large cut on his neck, blood falling into the white snow of the fort. He coughed and spluttered and tried to cover it with his hands, but the injury only seemed to get worse. This time Zenyatta tried to do something he hadn’t done in any of the other dreams, and reached out his hands to stop the blood. But as his metal hands touched Jesse’s neck, they turned to shadows, disappearing into the dark night as wisps.  
  
Zenyatta awoke with a yelp, feeling his systems rushing and making him dizzy. The room was quiet, the little lights of Jesse’s mechanical arm on the table shining dimly. Zenyatta held up both his hands to check that they had not disappeared, and found them intact. He tried his best to push the still-clear nightmare out of his mind, focusing on anything but what he had seen. He moved his hands around the mattress to find Jesse’s sleeping body, his chest rising and falling slowly with his dark face buried into a pillow.  
  
While the sight comforted Zenyatta, he felt a twinge of guilt. He didn’t want to wake Jesse and explain the nightmare, and he hadn’t wanted to wake him up in panic, either. He knew nothing was keeping him from telling Jesse how unsettled he was, and he knew Jesse wouldn’t complain about hearing it. To have comfort from him right now would be wonderful. But Zenyatta knew he needed his rest, and he most certainly didn’t need to worry about Zenyatta at all. It would have to wait. Instead, Zenyatta laid back down and tried to shut down again, listening to the soft sound of Jesse breathing beside him, right here, and alive for now.


	4. Chapter 4

The loud crack of the gunshot hitting the target rang through the whole room. Zenyatta looked over to see that Jesse had hit the middle again, for the ninth time in the past ten minutes. Jesse sighed and lifted the standard pistol again. “Damn thing didn’t get bullseye.”  
  
“Only by a millimeter.” Zenyatta told him, but Jesse shot again anyway. Once again he hit dead centre, and he fired again just to be sure. By now, the target had a deep rip in the middle, with a few scattered ones in the ring around it. Jesse hit the centre again anyway. It was mid morning, and they were testing how his shooting skills were. He’d joked that there would be no real point staying in Overwatch if the injury did something to his perfect shot, but Dr. Ziegler had still voiced her concern.  
  
“Lena told me you were alright to run with her yesterday, but she did mention you seemed dizzy.” she’d told him as him and Zenyatta were sitting in the mess hall a half hour ago.  
  
“Reckon that might be because that girl was running circles around me,” Jesse said. “I swear, doc, you worked enough wonders with me. I’m fine.”  
  
“Just go to the range, Jesse. I’m sure it’ll only take a few minutes, and you can report back to me when you’re done.” she’d insisted, taking a long sip of coffee. Zenyatta could see that she was making an effort to keep her eyes open, and didn’t seem to be in the mood to argue with Jesse about his condition.  
  
“Have you gotten enough rest again, Dr. Ziegler?” he asked her.  
  
Dr. Ziegler put down her cup. “Ah, if I’m honest, I never sleep well. Work always calls in one way or another, and I don’t exactly have set work hours.”  
  
“Don’t suppose you could nap on the job.” Jesse noted.  
  
She shook her head. “I’d never catch a wink in the medical bay. And I always have someone to patch up on a field mission. But I’m surprised that there’s a whole other five experts that took the job. Obviously not enough, with all the new agents applying and the missions getting more dangerous…”  
  
“Well, you’re doing a mighty fine job yourself.” Jesse said, and Dr. Ziegler gave a little weak smile.  
  
“Try and sleep when you can. A full eight hours is ideal, but at least six would be fine for you.” Zenyatta suggested, though he knew he didn’t really have the place to be giving advice on sleep.  
  
“You both are kind. I’m just a little bit tired, I’m sure I can go on with my work for the day,” Dr. Ziegler said. “I assume I don’t need to follow you to the range later?”  
  
“I’ll go with Zen. You trust him as much as I do, right?” Jesse said, nudging Zenyatta’s shoulder next to his.  
  
“Perhaps a little less, but yes. You can find me when you’re done.”  
  
And Jesse was just about done now, as he put the small black pistol back on the ledge and clicked a button to reset the virtual target. “You know I only missed a few ‘cause this ain’t my gun, right?”  
  
“Of course,” Zenyatta said. “Though I don’t think any of your shots counted as a miss.”  
  
Jesse shrugged. “Still would’ve been better if I had my Peacekeeper. D’you want a go?”  
  
“I don’t know how to fire a gun, Jesse.”  
  
“That’s not true. I taught you, remember?”  
  
“And I remember that it wasn’t to my liking. I admit I like watching you do it much more.” Zenyatta said.  
  
This was one of the rooms in the Gibraltar base that Zenyatta had never seen before, and while he knew nothing about shooting he had been assured by Jesse that it wasn’t anything special. “Think I remember it being the same in Blackwatch, even,” Jesse had said as they’d entered the isolated room. “Only now the targets aren’t made of wood and don’t have holes like a swiss cheese.” Dr. Ziegler had been right - it had only taken Jesse twelve minutes to finish the testing and for Zenyatta to plug into his memory where all his shots had landed. If it hadn’t been obvious before, Jesse was a professional, although he didn’t like to describe himself as one. He preferred to relate his sharpshooting skills to luck, and a lot of experience in the field. In past missions, Zenyatta didn’t think he’d ever seen him miss a shot before. He was sure Jesse would be glad that the injury hadn’t taken his skill away from him.  
  
“Why, what’s so pleasing about watching me shoot? Enlighten me.” Jesse asked.  
  
“Well, you have a certain way about yourself when you do it,” Zenyatta explained to him. Your years of experience show in the way you hold the weapon, mainly, not too tight a grip but not delicately either. You have no hesitation before or after, because you make yourself in control of the situation before you even pick it up. Your style doesn’t vary too often, so you’ve spent nearly your whole life perfecting the way you go about it. It is far more pleasing to watch an expert in their area perform than watch a beginner, though both are equally important. I would say you can always improve on your skills, but I don’t think you have anything to improve on.”  
  
“That enamoured with me, huh? That you’d just watch me shoot a gun all day?”  
  
“You know I am.” Zenyatta said. He left out the fact that hearing gunshots in the same room as him and Jesse had flared up a few of his internal nodes, unsure if this would end up to be a nightmare disguised as reality or not. He kept his visual sensors practically glued to Jesse while he was shooting, making sure the gun he held was firing away from him, and that he was safe. He was still debating whether or not to tell Jesse about the simulations he’d been seeing, fearing that Jesse would be thrown off his recovery if he needed to help him through them. “How are you feeling, by the way?”  
  
“I’m doing pretty good. You were still shut down when I got up so I switched the bandage again, hope you don’t mind.” Jesse said.  
  
“Do you still feel pain?”  
  
“A little. It’s not nearly as bad as it was before, but it still stings. I think the worst is over, now that Angela patched up my bones, but until the rest of it heals up it won’t feel great.”  
  
“You can take more time, you know. I’m sure Winston would find someone to take your place on field missions. And I’d be more than happy to stay with you until it heals perfectly.” Zenyatta said.  
  
“Ah, you know I can’t stay inside for long, Zen. It’ll probably kill me faster if I take time off,” Jesse said. “You could still try and kiss it better if you want to.”  
  
“It may be worth a try.” Zenyatta laughed.  
  
Jesse smiled as he picked up the standard handgun again, twirling it around with a devious expression on. “Say, you think I can get bullseye with my eyes closed?”  
  
“That’s hardly a challenge for you. You’d have to do it backwards.” Zenyatta said.  
  
“Backwards, and with my eyes closed. Any other add-ons?” Jesse asked, turning his back to the target.  
  
“Well, there’s no point in keeping your eyes closed if you can’t see it after all.” Zenyatta noted. He pushed away the thought in his mind that maybe trick shooting wasn’t the best thing for Jesse to do with a gun in his hands for the first time in a week. Hadn’t he just gone on about how he was a professional with nothing to improve upon, anyway? “Hmm….one hand only?”  
  
“Can do.” Jesse crossed his metal arm in front of his stomach, facing away from the target. He paced forward from the ledge until he was nearly at the wall where Zenyatta was hovering. “No one behind me?”  
  
“You’re safe to shoot.” Zenyatta said, still reminding himself that Jesse couldn’t possibly injure himself like this. He’d done much more dangerous things on missions out in the open, with enemies firing at him from every direction. Shooting a standard pistol with his back turned and his hand in front of him was surely nothing for Jesse. Zenyatta took a glance at his face, and saw the expression of a professional about to perform their greatest trick to an audience. He would be fine. It would be over in a second.  
  
Jesse flicked off the safety with his right hand, and moved his finger to the trigger. “Do you wanna put money on this?”  
  
“I’ll wager wearing your hat for a day.”  
  
“Hey now, don’t take it too far.” Jesse grinned. Zenyatta felt his systems slow as Jesse put more of his finger on the pistol’s trigger. He held his gaze on his boyfriend’s face for as long as he could, possibly too long.  
  
“You alright, Zen?” Jesse asked him, his sure expression faltering. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”  
  
“I’m alright. Just waiting.” Zenyatta assured him, looking away from his face and focusing on the handgun he held instead. He had his hand firmly in place, handling it as if it were just another part of him he could control. He held control over what the outcome would be - whether he would miss and risk shooting himself, or whether he’d get the result he was hoping for. And by the looks of it, he wasn’t planning on missing.  
  
A second later, there was a loud crack, and Zenyatta craned his head to see the target. The shot had landed right in the middle - not a millimeter off. Jesse turned around to see it as well, and laughed as he took his hat off. “You think that’ll suffice as proof for Angie?”  
  
“It’s proof enough for anyone. You truly are better than anyone I’ve ever seen.” Zenyatta said. He took the brown cowboy hat from Jesse and put it on himself, the brim falling in front of his visual sensors. Jesse walked up to put the handgun back on the ledge and reset the target again, taking Zenyatta’s hand to leave the range. He brought the hand to his lips and kissed it.  
  
“Well, let’s go tell her.” Jesse grinned, sliding open the metal door.  
  
The shooting range was all the way on the other side of the base, isolated from the other structures on the rock. It was a pretty large building, and Zenyatta doubted he had seen even a quarter of it in those fifteen minutes past. No one else had been taking the time to practice this morning, and it didn’t seem like anyone was planning to soon. Zenyatta and Jesse had the whole walk back to themselves, talking about whether Jesse was allowed to do that on professional missions, and Jesse asking if Zenyatta might try and teach him how to shoot the orbs of destruction sometime. It felt good for things to feel a little normal after all that had happened. 

  


The two were just about halfway to the medical bay when Lena appeared out of nowhere, waving in front of one of the garages and looking a little panicked. It looked like she was trying to open the garage door to go flying, judging by her full flight suit she had on, but might have been having trouble with a few things. She had a large metal box in one hand, and was waving frantically at the two with the other. “Hey! Zen! Zenyatta! Can I talk to you for a quick second?” she shouted.  
  
“What is it?” Zenyatta asked, him and Jesse both moving off of the track to where she was standing. As Zenyatta saw her face up closer, she looked more panicked than he’d thought, her face screwed up with nerves. “Is something wrong?”  
  
“No, nothing’s wrong, it’s just, um…” She stopped her sentence as she noticed Jesse. “Uh…. Jesse, love, don’t take this the wrong way, but I need to have a little bit of a private chat with Zenyatta. Did I interrupt something important?”  
  
“Nah, you’re alright,” Jesse said. “You going on a trip somewhere?”  
  
“No, just…can’t get the damn door open,” Lena said, holding up the metal box with a shaking hand. “Been trying for an hour, it must be jammed. And I’ve got my flight instructor certificate testing at noon. Must have the jitters, I think.”  
  
“Yeah, and a damn good case of them. You look like someone’s out to get you.” Jesse said, Lena quickly glancing behind him to see into another open garage.  
  
“No! I’m alright!” she piped, obviously lying. Zenyatta could tell that her upcoming certification wasn’t the only thing making her restless. Her eyes were darting back and forth between him, Jesse, and whatever was behind them like a bird. Something about her expression was wrong. He’d been acquainted with Lena practically from the moment he’d joined Overwatch, and hadn’t ever seen her get this nervous over something. And she’d mentioned needing to talk to him privately. He had the feeling that it would have something to do with the person she didn’t want to talk about it to.  
  
Jesse seemed a little lost for words for a few seconds. “Well, good luck on your test. I’ll go find the doc myself, alright, Zen?”  
  
“Alright.” Zenyatta said, a little disappointed that he wouldn’t get to return with him, but he knew whatever Lena had to talk in private with him about was more important. Besides, Jesse wasn’t the type to stay by himself for long. He’d find him again soon enough. Jesse nodded in agreement, continuing on the way down through the base. Lena adjusted her jacket nervously as they both watched him go by, and as he disappeared she suddenly dropped the box, the loud clang making her jump.  
  
“Lena, you seem troubled. Is something wrong?” Zenyatta asked her.  
  
“Oh, it’s nothing terrible,” Lena responded, though she didn’t look like she meant it. “I’ve got my test for my next flying certificate in an hour. Must have the jitters, I think.”  
  
“What was it you wanted to talk about?”  
  
Lena looked around cautiously before saying what she needed to. “I…needed to ask you how Jesse’s doing. For recovery, I mean.”  
  
“Oh.” The thick fearful tone of Lena’s words read between the lines for Zenyatta. She wasn’t asking if his wound had healed up yet or if he’d been exercising after being out for two weeks. She was asking if he was ready to go back into the field soon. “He is doing his best. We only just finished retesting his aim, and he appears to be his usual self. I can’t say for much else; your friend Angela was the one doing most of his physical examinations for the past two weeks.”  
  
“No, I mean as in his mind,” Lena said, holding her own hand to keep it from shaking now. “Has he been having nightmares? Does he talk to you about what happened on the mission? Has he been…moody, or negative, upset about anything?”  
  
“Not that I know of.” Zenyatta said, and he realized that it was true; Jesse seemed, for the most part, psychologically unaffected by his injury. He knew that he couldn’t truly tell until at least a few months passed, but for every time Zenyatta asked him he’d said he was fine. Just remembered it as a painful experience that had happened, and was over now. _He_ was the one that had been having nightmares and worrying about facing the same situation again. “Why do you ask?”  
  
“Winston asked me to ask you,” Lena answered. “We both already knew Jesse wouldn’t tell us everything about how he’s feeling. You probably know by now that he has a thing with downplaying his emotions. And since you’re the only one that could get him to tell you straight, we thought you were the best option.”  
  
“Why does Winston want to know?” Zenyatta asked, even though he knew what the answer was.  
  
“He, um…” Lena paused, still holding her own shaking hand. She darted her head around again, checking for anyone else that might be listening to their conversation, or anyone that might be nearby and watching from a distance. “I’ve kinda got a bit of a busy afternoon, actually…” she laughed, giving her attention back to Zenyatta. “Someone’s coming from Germany to test me for my flight instructor’s permit, and after that I’m flying out to Russia by myself. That’s why I’m trying to get the garage open, y’know…check if I’ve got enough power to do one after the other.”  
  
“Winston is sending you by yourself?” Zenyatta asked. That definitely wasn’t normal - assuming Lena was going back to the Odistroma fort, he thought she would be one of at least thirty agents on the attack.  
  
“Yeah, just to fly by the fort, check out their defences from the sky. Only problem is I don’t know if they’ll be able to see me or not,” Lena said. “I don’t wanna get shot down, y'know? All I have to do is see what it looks like, then give my report so we can start planning the next attack.”  
  
“And Winston wishes for Jesse to be part of the attacking team, I understand.” Zenyatta said.  
  
Lena nodded. “Only if he’s okay to go. It won’t happen for at least another week, but we want to strike back ‘soon as possible. Do you think he’d be ready in time?”  
  
Zenyatta didn’t know what to say. He knew by estimates and already gathered data that Jesse would be clear to return to the field in a few days, though the gash still wouldn’t have gone away, and he wouldn’t be able to split from the team. But each and every simulation had warned Zenyatta that Jesse would die if he went back to the fort, without him there to give him a chance at survival. He had the instinct to lie to Lena, and tell her that Jesse wouldn’t be ready for at least another month. But what good would that do? Jesse was already doing trick shots with a handgun, and would only be bored if he stayed at the base recovering for a month. Dr. Ziegler would eventually clear him, and then Lena would know he’d lied. She might never trust him again. A thought occurred to Zenyatta that if he told Lena he wasn’t ready, he might be saving Jesse’s life. He’d already sat idling while he was dying once, and he wouldn’t do it again. Even if someone cleared him to go back into the field sooner than he would say, it wouldn’t be in time to go to Odistroma. He would avoid the outcome of the nightmares by a thin wire. And, as far as he was concerned, that would be enough.  
  
“He’ll…um, he’ll be alright soon, but not as soon as you need,” Zenyatta decided. “Perhaps the week after.” He tried to brush away the guilt of lying to a good friend, saying to himself that it was for a good reason. Jesse would start back on slower missions, and soon be back on his feet. He would never need to set foot in the Odistroma snow again.  
  
“Oh. Alright, then. Thanks, Zenny.” Lena said. She slid the zipper around on one of the pockets in her flight jacket nervously.  
  
“You still appear to be nervous,” Zenyatta noted. “Is it the test, or the flying check?”  
  
“Mix of both,” Lena said. “I sure hope this goes away when the instructor gets here. It took a lot of money to get him to come here and test me, so I’m not gonna let myself fail.”  
  
“Here,” Zenyatta took one of the floating orbs from around his neck, and gave it to Lena. It hovered over her shoulder, creating a small golden aura beaming around her whole body. “Hopefully it will help you stay calm.”  
  
“Aw, thanks love.” Lena said, taking a long and deep breath at last. “You don’t mind if I keep it for a while?"  
  
“Not at all. Will you be alright with the door?”  
  
“Yeah, I’ll wrench it open. Tell Jesse we weren’t smack-talking him or anything, would you?”  
  
“I’ll be sure to. Best of luck.” Zenyatta said as Lena continued to take deep breaths, her hands still wobbling slightly. She thanked him again, and waved as he left her at the garage door, making his way over to where Jesse had gone. The white lie he’d told was still making him feel guilty, as if he’d said something horrible or insulted Jesse instead of making an attempt to protect him. He knew he should have asked Jesse first, but it was too late now, and he was sure Jesse would’ve jumped at the idea of going back out there, no matter how many warnings Zenyatta gave him. He loved Jesse, he really did, but he could never stop worrying that every day might be the last day he ever saw him.  
  
And if there was anything he could do to save the one person he cared about more than anything, then he would be sure to take it, and run far.


	5. Chapter 5

The flash of lightning from outside the small window lit up the room. The lights in the kitchen flickered momentarily as thunder boomed, then returned to normal as the storm continued to rage outside. No one seemed to be bothered by this after the fifth time it had happened - or it could have been the seventh - Zenyatta wasn’t exactly counting. The storm itself was right over the base, and it had been pouring like a hurricane for at least an hour now. He knew that it shouldn’t trouble him as long as he stayed inside, not risking being hit and thoroughly fried by lightning on his way to another building. He was contented with staying in the recreational area of the quarters, and it seemed like a few others were happy to as well.  
  
Five off-duty agents had crowded the small kitchen that was only really supposed to fit two at a time. The mess hall was closed off for the night, and either the storm was causing a bout of hunger, or a few agents had skipped lunch. Mei sat on a counter engrossed in her book while Hana watched her popcorn turn in the beaten-down microwave, bobbing her head to a non-existent beat. She tapped her foot against Jesse’s leg, who said he would pay it no mind if she gave him half of her food when it was done. Zenyatta was hovering beside Mei, often reading a sentence or two over her shoulder, though he couldn’t tell what the book was about at all. Lúcio was the only one using the small stove, boiling pasta he’d dug around in the cabinet for, and by the size of the portion it looked like he intended to feed the whole base.  
  
“My hand slipped, okay?” he’d said when Mei pointed out that he’d used the whole bag. “Besides, I’ll take leftovers if none of you guys want it all.”  
  
“You sure it’s not stale?” Jesse asked him as thunder boomed again, drowning out the end of his question.  
  
“No, it’s not for sale. This was the only thing I could find in here,” Lúcio answered. “You’d think if they had an extra kitchen they’d put some food in it.”  
  
“They did - there’s a whole stash of cold stuff in the freezer.” Hana said, watching the microwave with bored eyes.  
  
“I’m gonna guess you can’t thaw any of it, though,” Jesse said. “Don’t think anyone’s actually used this place for years.”  
  
As the storm continued to rage and the other agents made small conversation, Zenyatta’s thoughts wondered to Lena. It had surely been hours since her flight testing, and she must be over Russia now. The storm had only arrived two hours ago, after Zenyatta had spent the rest of the day with Jesse wandering the base, meaning she would have already left when the weather turned bad. He hoped the skies wouldn’t look the same over Odistroma, and she would return safely later that night with word on their defences.  
  
Ironically, the conversation the agents were making now had to do with when their next mission would be. Mei had put down her book to talk about an assignment she had soon in Dubai, and the fact that she didn’t know anyone else on her team. Hana chimed in with an experience she’d had when she first joined Overwatch, where the men on her team assumed she was too young to be in battle. “I pretty much scraped the floor with the enemy,” she said proudly. “They weren’t making as many jokes about me on the way back.” The microwave dinged, and she popped open the door, tossing the hot bag to Jesse.  
  
“You going out any time soon, Zen?” Lúcio asked, finishing up with the second pot of pasta.  
  
“Not that I’ve heard.” Zenyatta said, and he did wonder why he hadn’t been assigned to any missions since Odistroma. It didn’t look like any of the agents who had been there had left the base since, save for Lena flying back to it as they spoke. It felt like they were saving them to return, making sure they weren’t injured on any side missions so that when Overwatch made the next trip to the fort, the entire mission team wouldn’t be completely lost. He was taking it as a sign of good luck that he could stay here while Jesse recovered.  
  
The lie he’d told Lena was still bothering him into the night. He hadn’t told Jesse what they’d talked about in detail besides saying she needed to calm down for her testing. All the secrets he’d been hiding from Jesse were beginning to pile up, the sheer number of them after Zenyatta reviewed the last two weeks surprising him. He knew it was all for the best, a greater good of Jesse getting back on his feet without any outside trouble. Zenyatta could deal with his own problems once things were back to normal, and Jesse would never have to know about any of this.  
  
“Next time I’m gonna request you, actually. That okay?” Lúcio asked Zenyatta. He grabbed a large bowl from the cabinet above and poured both pots of pasta into them. “No sauce. Sorry guys.”  
  
“Your request is fine with me. May I ask why?” Zenyatta asked as Mei jumped off the counter to grab a bowl.  
  
“Somehow I always get the teams with the worst luck,” Lúcio told him. “They keep getting injured left and right. I’m just one guy - I can’t keep up with all that. Worst is Winston won’t let me take another support as backup. So if you come, we can hit two birds with one stone.”  
  
“What is the other bird?”  
  
“Keeping the team healthy, and you getting out of this tiny place.” Lúcio said. He put the large bowl onto the counter, giving himself a portion of the bland noodles. “It must be killing you two to be stuck behind.”  
  
“Got that right. This damn gash can’t heal fast enough.” Jesse said. He hadn’t moved to take any of Lúcio’s food, instead keeping his eyes closed as he took another handful of Hana’s popcorn. She batted his hand away to take some for herself, holding out a few pieces to Zenyatta, who declined the offer.  
  
“You falling asleep, old man?” Hana asked him playfully.  
  
“Just tired,” Jesse said. “Been feeling a little drowsy for a while.”  
  
“You should get to rest,” Mei offered. “Especially if you’re hurt.”  
  
“You can barely call me ‘hurt’ anymore, Mei. Just a little scratched up.” Jesse said, battling with his eyes to keep them open as he spoke.  
  
The agents continued to make conversation as they ate, the storm still raging outside. Zenyatta added his voice every so often, but he kept his mind focused on Lena, and his visual sensors focused on Jesse. He appeared just as distanced from the conversation as Zenyatta was, trying to keep his eyes open to stay awake. Zenyatta knew there was no real need for the two of them to be here - Jesse was going to eventually drift off against the wall, and Zenyatta couldn’t even eat. Eventually, he glided over to Jesse, and tugged on his hand.  
  
“Do you want to leave?” he whispered.  
  
“I think I might,” Jesse said. “I feel pretty dizzy if I’m honest.”  
  
Zenyatta nodded. “It was good to see you all,” he told the three agents, who were all eating the pasta like it was their last meal. “But we’ll be going now. Have a good rest of your night.”  
  
“I’ll tell you when my next trip out is, okay, Zen?” Lúcio said. Zenyatta nodded, and Jesse lead the way out of the small kitchen, nearly knocking over Mei’s book from the counter and losing her page. He took Zenyatta’s hand as they entered the hall, finding the door to get to the sleeping quarters. They would have to go through the rain to get there, and he didn’t know how long it would take to get across.  
  
Jesse pulled the handle on the thick metal door to the outside, and Zenyatta got a glimpse of what the yard looked like in the storm. Dark clouds hung overhead, as a flash of lightning went off and illuminated the whole area. Thunder rang out a second later. “You ready?” Jesse asked Zenyatta, still holding his hand.  
  
“What do you mean?” Zenyatta asked. Jesse took off his serape and gave it to Zenyatta, wrapping it around the upper frame of his body.  
  
“Well, I’m not gonna saunter through this beast,” Jesse said. “It’ll only take a few seconds, don’t you worry.”  
  
“Then I suppose I am ready.” Zenyatta said, and before he knew it, Jesse was pulling him outside and into the storm.  
  
The water hit him suddenly, cold hard droplets coursing from the sky onto the both of them. The serape Jesse had given him was covering most of his upper frame to keep him dry, but he could already feel the cloth soaking through. Jesse was running like he was being chased, still holding onto Zenyatta’s hand tightly. Zenyatta floated as fast as he could to keep up, holding the red serape on with one hand and squeezing Jesse’s metal hand with the other. Thunder boomed overhead, making Jesse yelp as lightning flashed nearby. They were still a while from the sleeping quarters, and it would take some time to reach it no matter how fast they went. Zenyatta knew that he should be terrified about how potentially dangerous this could be, but something was stopping him from freaking out.  
  
It was Jesse laughing. Jesse, who was soaking wet and had been close to falling asleep a minute earlier, was laughing as if this was the best thing in the world. Zenyatta had been outside in rainstorms before, but he had yet to experience running through a thunderstorm with someone else, evidently not caring if they got wet and how far they had to go. As lightning flashed again, he thought of nothing but what he could see; not Lena, not Jesse’s injury, and not his nightmares. Just the dark base, the rain falling from the sky, and Jesse’s hand in his, floating across the yard with him.  
  
Zenyatta knew that if he stayed in the downpour for long enough, the water would do something to his internal systems. He knew that he was a target for lightning, and it would be coming back around any second now. He knew so many dangers and had so many concerns about running through the rain with Jesse, but somehow he didn’t care. It felt wonderful - the thunder echoing above them as they approached the sleeping quarters, seeing the lights in many windows, a few people looking out at the yard to see the storm. He caught up to float beside Jesse as they approached the small building, and pushed it open himself just as lightning flashed behind them.  
  
Jesse practically threw himself inside after Zenyatta, laughing in exhilaration. “Been a long time since it rained.” he said, breathing heavily from the run. His clothes were dripping onto the metal floor, hat carrying water in its brim and shirt soaked through. His serape which Zenyatta wore suffered the same fate, as Zenyatta took it off and wrung it, a second downpour coming out from the fabric. “Haven’t done that since I was a teen.”  
  
“You haven’t been in a rainstorm for all these years?” Zenyatta asked him, still feeling a rush going through his wires. He felt freer than he had for the past two weeks, nothing on his mind but the storm and Jesse.  
  
“I mean I haven’t run through it with someone since I was a stupid kid,” Jesse corrected. “Felt like I was young and in love for a minute there.”  
  
Zenyatta couldn’t bring himself to do anything but laugh. Jesse knew how to wake him up, make him forget he was injured and could barely walk last week. Zenyatta knew that Jesse would never bore him. Nothing that happened to Jesse was ever uneventful, and he was, for the most part, happy to go through it all with him. He would suffer through anxiety and night terrors if it meant he got to do little things like this, scurrying through the rain like they were fleeing a flood, hands grasped together and pulling each other through. For a while, he felt like nothing had even happened to Jesse on the mission. He felt like everything was the same as it had been before he was shot, before the nightmares began and Zenyatta started to lie. Underneath the storm clouds, they’d been the same people they were before for just a minute. And as the rush in his wires was beginning to slow, Zenyatta wished it could be like that now and forever.  
  
“What, a little too sappy for your taste?” Jesse asked, and Zenyatta shook his head.  
  
“Never.” he said to him, and thunder rumbled outside as he spoke. The storm was moving away, and would hopefully be gone by the time they went to sleep. Perhaps tonight, he would not suffer through another simulation where Jesse died in the Odistroma snow. Perhaps he would dream of better things, like where he was now, holding his boyfriend close and keeping him safe from the storm outside.

  


The sky above twisted into an aura of reds and oranges, like a sunrise that any traveller would be terrified by. Zenyatta watched as the towering Omnic before him trudged closer, pulling its feet through the deep snow along with its large weapon. He could do nothing - not back away, run up and fight it, or call out for someone’s help. It lunged forward, swinging and missing a grab for Zenyatta, who was tiny in scale to the massive robot. He was about to force himself into moving out of the way when the snow rose up in front of him, creating a form out of ice that wore Jesse’s soaked clothing. The Omnic swung its weapon forward, punching a hole through the form, and it fell like a broken ice sculpture back into the snow. He saw the red serape fall along with the rest, the same colour as the sky above him, and it jolted Zenyatta out of his shutdown mode.  
  
His bedroom was quiet. The rain must have stopped while he was offline, leaving no sound but the wind outside of his window blowing softly. A candle in the windowsill flickered, its light swaying dangerously close to the set of white curtains. And Zenyatta hovered absentmindedly, his systems waking up uncomfortably after being awoken so quickly. He thought that he should be used to waking like this, after these nightmares had become a nightly occurrence. But they still left him surprised and shaken, always finding a new way to scare him by using the same old tricks. He made an effort to regain balance, focusing on the candle flame dancing back and forth, staying still for only a few seconds at a time before jumping back into motion.  
  
It was then that he remembered he was not alone. Jesse laid sleeping in the small bed, wearing a large sweater Zenyatta had given him in exchange for his soaking clothes. The garments in question now laid hanging from the ceiling, dripping water into a large puddle Zenyatta would have to clean in the morning. But what bothered him was not the cleanliness of his room - it was Jesse’s silence. He had rested close to Jesse before, enough times to know that he took deep breaths when he slept, almost snoring but not quite. Yet he was silent, not a sound coming from him at all.  
  
As Zenyatta moved to inspect him, he realized that Jesse wasn’t moving, either. His chest stayed down, not rising an inch to let out a breath of air. Panic suddenly overcame him, and Zenyatta put his hand onto Jesse’s shoulder, pulling it back as he found his skin to be as cold as ice. There Jesse lay calmly, in complete silence with his chest still, his body as cold as the snow he’d dreamt it being made of. And as Zenyatta realized this, he became overcome with dread.  
  
He flew out of the bed as if possessed, throwing the lights on and slamming the window shut. The candle went out with a hiss as he rushed back over to Jesse, who’s dark skin looked almost pale in the new light. Zenyatta couldn’t compute the visual sight. All he could think was he had lost him when he least expected it; Jesse had died in his sleep without warning nor reason. He took the thin blanket off of Jesse, practically forcing his hands not to freeze up in the panic he felt. Now was not the time to sit back and become terrified. There was no one else here to help. Zenyatta was alone in the small room, his systems only just woken up and already being thrown into a frenzy, and his boyfriend lying cold on the thin mattress. He had to do something - he had lost the chance to help him before, and he would not lose it again.  
  
Zenyatta took the covers completely off of Jesse, who laid wearing large baggy clothes as still as a stone. He shook his arm, trying to cause something to stir in him, but to no avail. He shook him a little harder now, his internal balance completely thrown off in this vulnerable state. When Jesse still did nothing, he checked the pulse of his neck, feeling for some sort of beating that would promise he was still there. And there he felt it - slow, and soft, but still there, proving Jesse was alive. Zenyatta felt himself become lighter as relief washed over him. But he was not done - Jesse’s pulse was very faint, and he would need to wake up as soon as possible.  
  
Summoning his orbs from where they hovered on the other side of the room, Zenyatta gave a harmony orb to Jesse as he laid unconscious. A warm golden light began to glow around him as it floated above his chest. It would soothe any pain he felt, return air to his lungs, and hopefully allow Jesse to come to his senses soon. Zenyatta put his own cold metal hand on Jesse’s forehead, resting it lightly to put some feeling back into his body. He knew this was what to do when someone fainted, and he could only hope it would work for whatever had happened to Jesse. He was attempting to stay calm, think straightforward and logically, but the situation he was in was barely ideal - waking up from a nightmare to see the very person he’d seen injured in the dream wasn’t breathing.  
  
Zenyatta waited, his mind racing as he tried to get everything under control. He kept his hand on Jesse’s forehead, checking his pulse again every so often to see that the slow beat was still there. The harmony orb seemed to be doing its job; Jesse’s pulse was strengthening, and his chest began to rise and fall slowly after ten minutes of waiting. It was agony, causing every node in Zenyatta’s body to ache with fear, the question of what if Jesse couldn’t wake up pulsing through his mind. It was too reminiscent of the flight back from Odistroma, when Jesse had been writhing and gasping as Zenyatta could do nothing but stare. In fact, it felt like he wasn’t there in the room at all. The touch of his forehead felt foreign, as if his skin was synthetic and fake. It felt like he was watching it unfold on a screen, unable to think straight or keep his mind under control.  
  
Zenyatta ended up backing away from Jesse, giving up on finding his balance and letting fear overtake him. It felt worse than anything he’d ever felt before, tranquility lost and all sense of functioning gone. The freedom and joy he’d felt in the rain hours ago had disappeared, replaced by a sense of helplessness and disassociation. He hadn’t felt like this for a long time, possibly longer than he could remember back. It was reminiscent of the nightmares, when he was unable to move or call out for help. He knew Jesse was the one who needed help, the one who was close to death, but he couldn’t bring himself to face him. He had done what he could while he could make himself stable, and the harmony orb was still providing healing, but Zenyatta himself was lost.  
  
It was a long time before Zenyatta returned to his senses. He sat on the ground next to the puddle of water, shutting off his visual sensors and attempting to meditate, but it gave him little aid. This was the first time he had truly been out of control, unable to reign his mind back and stop the discomfort from overtaking him. He gave himself small reminders, that Jesse’s heart was beating, that he had done what he could in the situation given, and those seemed to do some good. He knew he was still unbalanced, and would have to quickly regain it once he felt alright. After what felt like an hour, he turned his visual sensors back on, and the light of the room hit him like a new day. It was still silent, and fearing Jesse was still unconscious, he turned around to see what had become of him.  
  
Jesse was sat up on the bed, the orb of harmony hovering over his shoulder. His face had returned to full colour, and he was breathing properly, without sign of fatigue or exhilaration. Zenyatta felt relief flow through him, throwing off his balance, and causing him to feel discomforted again. The sweater Jesse wore was covered in sweat, making it a much darker grey than it had originally been. At least he was awake, Zenyatta thought; the little things he had done had worked, and Jesse was safe now.  
  
But something was still tugging at his emotions. The way Jesse was looking at him was a way he’d never looked at him before. His bottom lip was hanging open, his eyes frozen, staring at where Zenyatta sat next to the puddle and all of Jesse’s clothes. He looked shocked, as if he couldn’t believe what his eyes showed him. Almost all at once, reality caught up with Zenyatta, and he felt foolish. He could feel his metal frame trembling, his fans whirring unnaturally. He had become a mess, the likes of which he’d never been before. And Jesse had seen it all.  
  
“Zen?” he asked cautiously, as if saying the wrong words would cause Zenyatta to go back into a panic.  
  
“Yes?” Zenyatta answered him, his voice infused with static, not coming out right at all.  
  
Jesse carefully took the harmony orb off of him. Its golden aura faded, and the ball fell to the mattress beneath. He took a long and deep breath, still staring at Zenyatta as if he was a freak of nature, and not his love. “We have to talk.” he said, and Zenyatta could feel all the discord that had resonated inside of him swell, and he shook like he was freezing, broken by seeing Jesse dying too many times to count.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning that I won't be here next week, so the next chapter will have to wait a while. When I get back I'll probably be focused on my work for the genyatta zine, so it might be postponed again. Thank you all for reading this fic, and hopefully I'll get the next chapter up when I can.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait - i was away from my laptop for a week and then was busy with my genyatta zine piece (which, btw, has some amazing artists and writers involved, if you like the ship you should definitely check it out on tumblr). thanks for reading again, and hope you enjoy!

“Zen.”  
  
“I thought you had died.”  
  
“What’re you doing down there?” Jesse had taken off the sweater, and sat on the small bed with his gash out in the open. It was a clean wound by now, with no blood or shrivelled skin around it, though Zenyatta knew it hadn’t openly bled in a while. He tried to remember that it was healing, and would be a scar soon enough. Still, the fact that it was there was enough to keep him fearing for Jesse’s health.  
  
“I…” Zenyatta struggled to find an explanation for his current state. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”  
  
“Why’re you on the ground, at least?”  
  
Zenyatta quickly rose from the floor, causing him to feel dizzy as he hovered. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the puddle for a small second, and it looked distorted, as if he wasn’t seeing his true self. Like it wasn’t real. “I was trying to heal you. You weren’t breathing when I woke up.”  
  
“I must’ve blacked out,” Jesse said, holding his hand to his temple. “I don’t know how it happened, either. Must’ve been the venom.”  
  
“Venom?”  
  
“There was some sort of poison in the wound, remember?” Jesse told him. “Doc must’ve been lying when she said it was nothing to worry about.”  
  
Zenyatta managed to keep himself from falling back onto the ground, although he still felt unbalanced and weak. He did not move towards Jesse. The way he’d looked at him when he saw him lying on the floor made him feel like he had done something to terrify him, and Jesse wouldn’t want him nearby now. “You were cold. I tried to wake you originally, but I…I couldn’t, and I…”  
  
“Hey, Zen, don’t freak out, stay calm.” Jesse said, holding his hand up as if controlling a wild animal. All that did was make Zenyatta feel worse. If he couldn’t even be in control of his own emotions, how was he supposed to keep Jesse in safety when he couldn’t protect himself? “I would’ve done the exact damn same if you blacked out on me like that. But what happened?”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“You were on the ground,” Jesse said. “Shaking like a dog with your hands in front of your face. I understand getting nervous, but you’ve never done anything like that before.”  
  
Zenyatta didn’t know how to answer. Jesse was right - he had never done anything like that before. Normally when his emotions got the better of him, he would close off and sit by himself, working logically through whatever was causing him trouble or just letting it quietly wash over him. The panic he’d gone through when he saw Jesse lying cold was a completely new sensation, and Zenyatta knew it was a product of how nervous he had been for the past two weeks. He had spent all this time worrying that Jesse would die on a mission, and seeing him passed out in his bed where he was supposed to be safe had shook him to his core.  
  
“I’m sorry,” was the only thing he could think to say. “I’d worried for days on end that you would get hurt on a mission. I never thought to expect it might happen while you were off-duty.”  
  
“You’ve been worrying about me?” Jesse asked, a confused expression on his face.  
  
“Of course I have. You’ve never been hurt this seriously before.”  
  
“But you knew I’d be fine,” Jesse said. “You must’ve. Else you would’ve told me, right?”  
  
Zenyatta couldn’t answer again. He should have told him, that was now certain, but he’d had a good reason not to. “I would’ve found it selfish to interrupt your recovery with my own troubles.”  
  
“That’s not selfish,” Jesse said. “How long’s this been happening for?”  
  
“Since you were hurt.” Zenyatta answered him. He knew he had to tell him everything, now, the secrets he’d been keeping and the lies he had made against his better judgement. “I’m sorry, I really am-”  
  
“Don’t apologize. I’m not mad at you, just…” Jesse looked at him like he was struggling to wrap his head around everything. “That’s how it got this bad?”  
  
Zenyatta nodded his head. “Seeing you die night after night must have wore me down.”  
  
“What?” Jesse’s voice grew louder, and Zenyatta remembered; he had never told him about the nightmares. Those terrible dreams where he’d seen Jesse injured in terrible ways had stayed in his mind, their contents never leaving through his vocal chords. And for what reason? Because he didn’t want to cause Jesse any worry while he was recovering. Zenyatta almost laughed. It was ridiculous. His intention to do good had only harmed himself. Though he supposed it was better than causing Jesse to fret over him.  
  
But now he had to tell him. Jesse was staring again, leaning forward like he didn’t want to miss any of the words that Zenyatta would have to say. He wondered where he should begin. “I’ve been having nightmares. About what happened on the mission where you were hurt. At first, they were only a terrible inconvenience, but as time went on…”  
  
“As time went on?” Jesse asked incredulously. “How many have you had?”  
  
“I didn’t feel the need to count. They kept returning,” Zenyatta said, and he heard Jesse take a deep sigh. “Each time the same, yet different. It shows me the Russian fort, and what could have happened that day. You…you’re always there, and I can never stop the defenders from killing you. That was why I woke up tonight. I’d seen you die in a dream. And when I looked to see you dead beside me…”  
  
“They’re always the same?”  
  
“It’s why I’m afraid of you returning to missions.” Zenyatta confessed. It was as if he couldn’t stop explaining all the things he’d done since Jesse was injured. “I can only see terrible things happening if they take you back there…”  
  
“You’re afraid of me leaving?”  
  
“Yes. Deathly. I can’t bear to be helpless again if you come close to death. While you were…” He paused, trying to collect himself to tell Jesse the one thing that had made him feel the worst. “While you were returning from the mission, I couldn’t help you. I froze. The dreams taunt me with that, making me unable to save you from dying night after night until I eventually stopped trying to. I feel guilt beyond what that I can handle, fear more than ever, and all I want to do is help you. All I meant to do was make recovery easier for you. I couldn’t have known it would get out of control like this.”  
  
Jesse didn’t say anything. Zenyatta didn’t blame him - he had said a lot more than he’d needed to. “Zenyatta, why didn’t you tell me when this started?”  
  
“I didn’t want to disrupt your recovery process,” Zenyatta said. “You were beginning to heal by the time they began, and telling you would only give you more stress.”  
  
Jesse took a deep breath. He was quiet for a few seconds, processing everything that he’d heard Zenyatta say. “That’s awful. That’s - no, that’s scary. And you think about this every night?”  
  
Zenyatta nodded, and Jesse sighed. His face conveyed a range of emotions, from shocked to upset and despaired. The emotions that had overcome Zenyatta were growing strong again as he looked at him, not wanting to get close in case that wasn’t what Jesse wanted. He must be making him so uncomfortable, causing so much trouble with petty emotions and fears. He wondered why he was the one that had been devastated by Jesse’s injury, when Jesse was the one who had gotten shot. Jesse hadn’t been having nightmares, and hadn’t been afraid of Zenyatta going back to Odistroma once this was all over. It was only Zenyatta, as far as he knew, who was spending hours worrying about what was to come from all of this.  
  
“Hey, you alright?” Jesse’s voice tore him away from his thoughts. Zenyatta could feel his hands shaking, a product of his balance by negativity. He shook his head.  
  
“I don’t know what’s happening,” he said. The truth felt a little strange leaving his vocal chords for the first time in a while. “It seems that I am out of touch with my judgement.”  
  
Jesse reached out and took one of his trembling hands. “You don’t need to keep talking if you don’t want to. You can explain all this later, just try and calm down. Okay, Zen?”  
  
“But you want to know, do you not?”  
  
“Since when is everything about what I want?” Jesse asked. His grip on Zenyatta’s hand was not firm, but it was not feeble, either. It was an attempt at reassurance, a reminder to Zenyatta that he was real, he was alive, and he wasn’t upset. Somehow it was the last point that surprised Zenyatta the most. He’d just told him that he’d been keeping important truths from him for weeks, and yet Jesse hadn’t gotten visibly frustrated. Of course, what he was thinking inside was always a different story, and for all Zenyatta knew he could be furious. But he still held his hand like an anchor, tying him down to calm the storm that was raging beneath his metal frame.  
  
“You’re right,” Jesse began. “Something this bad hasn’t happened to me while I’ve been in Overwatch so far. I’ve been pretty lucky to avoid dying these past months. But you talk to Genji, right?” Zenyatta nodded. “Didn’t he ever tell you that I’d be fine?”  
  
“He did. I couldn’t believe him then.”  
  
“You should’ve. He saw me get my arm ripped off in Blackwatch and live to tell the tale. I’ve gotten shot more times than I can count on two hands. I’ve lost enough blood to fill a damn wine bottle. And look at me,” He gestured to himself with the stump of his left arm. “I’m here. I’m here and I’m with you. I’ve fixed myself up alone before, and this help from you and the doc and everyone else is practically pampering me. But you didn’t have to stop telling me what’s bothering you just because I got hurt.”  
  
“I didn’t want to distract you from healing properly.” Zenyatta said, turning his hand over in Jesse’s to hold it weakly.  
  
“How you feel is never gonna distract me from anything, darling,” Jesse said. “A little wound isn’t gonna need my full attention for long. You really should’ve told me right when those nightmares started.”  
  
Zenyatta knew he was right. Hearing that Jesse wouldn’t have suffered from dealing with Zenyatta’s troubles made him feel foolish. He really had been doing much more harm than good by keeping things from him. “I’m so sorry, Jesse.”  
  
“It’s alright. I understand,” Jesse said back, and gave a small little smile. Zenyatta knew he was only trying to make the situation more comforting for him, and that he didn’t feel like smiling at all. “No more of this, okay?” Jesse said. “You tell me when you’re feeling down, no matter what I’m doing. I won’t always be able to drop everything, but you can bet I’ll make time for you. I always do.”  
  
Zenyatta nodded in understanding. “Do you want to hear it all now?”  
  
Jesse shook his head. “No, not now. I think I know enough to bridge a few gaps on my own. Besides, you’re not in the right mind. Can you shut down again?”  
  
“I could try.” Zenyatta said. His systems were still running on their highest setting because of the panic he’d been in, and he knew it would take a while to shut down fully once more. Jesse tugged his arm forward, and he came to sit next to him on the small mattress. He could see that Jesse was beginning to pale again, and he knew he would need to go to the medical bay in the morning to figure out what had made him pass out. He wouldn’t go back to sleep; that Zenyatta knew already. Jesse already had trouble sleeping, and the things Zenyatta had told him wouldn’t do much to help that. There was the possibility that they would simply lie beside each other, each pretending to sleep to make the other feel comforted, doing exactly what they’d just agreed not to do anymore.  
  
“On a second thought, I don’t think I’ll be able to.” Zenyatta said, feeling a little better to say what he knew was true.  
  
“Yeah, me neither. But you should rest anyways” Jesse said. Zenyatta nodded in agreement, taking his hand out of Jesse’s grasp. His visual sensors were focusing on Jesse’s gash, now closer to his faceplate than it had ever really been. He could see the places where the skin had already scarred, leaving dim white marks on his dark skin. He saw dried blood inside the entry wound, a dark shade of red that unsettled him. Even after all this time it still looked fresh, like he had only been injured yesterday. A part of him wanted to know what it felt like to touch.  
  
“May I?” he asked Jesse quietly, outstretching his quivering hand to his chest. Jesse hesitated, then nodded.  
  
“If you want to.” he said. Zenyatta very gently placed his hand on the wound, feeling the rough skin and jagged scars that surrounded it. He traced over the thin lines, the risen skin feeling smoother than the rest of the area. He was silent as he fulfilled a want of pure curiosity he’d forgotten was there, and Jesse remained quiet as well. It wasn’t an awkward silence, only an absence of noise. And it was calming, making Zenyatta’s hand still the longer he kept it where it was.  
  
He continued to touch the wound lightly, brushing his fingers over the worst of it in case Jesse still felt pain from it. He could feel how brittle the surrounding skin was compared to the rest of his chest. There were a few spots of yellow bruises, along with small cuts that hadn’t faded into scars yet. He didn’t want to hurt Jesse, yet he wanted to know what this felt like, know how a human could be hurt like this and survive. An Omnic would have to go through complete upper body frame reparations if they were shot in the same place, and would likely have permanent internal wire damage from it. But Jesse wasn’t hurting from this. He was allowing Zenyatta to try and understand without letting himself being weirded out or pained by the touch. He was always like that; patient and loving, caring for Zenyatta in a way that he surely wouldn’t need to do if Zenyatta was human. They both wanted to understand how the other had come to deal with this terrible thing. And they would both give the other the chance to do it.  
  
“You don’t have to be afraid of anything, Zen,” Jesse told him, breaking the comforting silence. He took Zenyatta’s metal hand off of his body. “If they do send me back out there, you’ll come with me. Hell, you’ll come on whatever mission I have next. Would that be fine?”  
  
Zenyatta nodded. “It would do me a great deal of satisfaction.”  
  
“Then that’s settled,” Jesse lifted his hand to his lips, and pressed a small kiss on it. “You’ll tell me everything when we’re not this tired, okay?”  
  
“Alright.” Zenyatta said. And for the first time in a while, he had the feeling that this was going to work out well.


End file.
